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Seeing Age

 I sit in my world history class, peering at an array of faces on my screen. All freshmen, classmates speak with an eagerness and a light in their eyes; they're yet to be dulled by the drabness of high school. They're faces, still undeveloped and bright, remind me of children. Given, I probably appear like a sophomore (at the most) to others, but I'm surprised to see the effect of a three-year gap on our appearances.

I still distinctly remember being greeted as I entered my second-grade classroom by Ms. Schwarz's guest: a past student who was now a freshman in high school. She stood heads above me, with the face and personality of an adult. Thoughts ran through my head as I looked at her in awe. Will I ever reach high school? How does it feel to be so old and mature?

Now thoughts run through my mind as I sit at home, being greeted by high-pitched "hi's" and "hellos" projected through my computer. When did I get so old? Why don't I feel like an adult? Tall? Mature? My 5'4" standing matches the height of the average American woman, but I still feel far from matching the idea of what the typical American adult is. In grocery stores, I walk by adults, (oftentimes shorter than I am) feeling small. I maneuver my body to steer out of their way. 

But when did old faces become so young?

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